01 Feb When the Pigs Scream
I’m used to late nights. My job means a lot to me, so obviously, I want to keep it and that means putting my all into it when things get busy. If that means I get home at 9 or 10, then that’s fine. Success...
31 Jan Geitefødsel: The Night of the Goat
In my youth, I had a wild streak. I was a teenager during the years when heavy metal began to get old. The group I ran with was fine with the classics, but they wanted something a little more extreme. We wanted something wild, raw...
30 Jan Parts
He was called “Old Man McConnell,” but Jarrod McConnell never considered himself old; he was barely over sixty, for Pete’s sake. But then again, he never considered himself rude, unpleasant, smelly, or a social outcast, but ask anyone else in Lakota City if he was,...
28 Jan The Opalesque
I don’t know exactly how this story started. It was already in motion well before I became aware of it. My involvement in it began with Christian and Philip: Christian, who was always late, and Philip, who was always early. Those two were part of our...
27 Jan Dark Shadows Rising
Paul nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized that his little sister was standing right next to him. He was focused like a laser, writing the next horror short that the Dark Shadows Rising podcast was demanding. The closer the deadline loomed, the...
25 Jan Grey Michael
It started out like any other work day. I had houses to sell and people who wanted to buy them. Honestly, I’ve always found being a realtor embarrassingly easy. People seek you out and ask you to sell them incredibly high-ticket items. I’ve done other...
24 Jan Dark Winter
“Look, Daddy! An airplane!” my son Sedrek pointed up at the sky at the brilliant metallic dot cutting a white line across the clear blue sky. This was something of a family tradition. When I saw airplanes as a little boy, I had to point them...
23 Jan Chasm
My name is Russell Green. At dawn on the morning of June 14 of this year I set off in a rented boat to a spot eleven miles north of Oymur on Russia’s Lake Baikal. My destination was informally called the Pit of Night. Three...
22 Jan The Man Who Returned
John Woodford in his first moments of returning consciousness was not aware that he was lying in his coffin. He had only a dull knowledge that he lay in utter darkness and that there was a close, heavy quality in the air he breathed. He...
21 Jan Hair
The circumstances in which we found Ms. Kerry were unpleasant. She had been dead for just over a week by the time we were called out, though how much of the smell came from her decomposing body and how much was from the house she had...
20 Jan NOAA Has Discovered a Species of Humanoids Living in Our Oceans
I know someone that works for NOAA. The disclosure rumors are 100% true, and the species in question is aquatic. I don’t expect anyone to believe me, and that’s fine. I know a lot of B.S. gets posted on the Internet for shits and giggles. I’m...
19 Jan Old Maggie’s Pool
Not far from where we’re sitting now is a pool of water no bigger than the width of a car. It lies stagnant, the breeze never touching its surface, as it is surrounded on all sides by large grey rocks that jut nine or ten...
18 Jan The Ruins on the Loch
It was a favorite spot of mine. I would happily sit by the clear water and look out to the surrounding hills as the sun peeked out from behind them. Each summer had been bliss there, but by then that bliss had turned to terror. For...
17 Jan Sea of Green
From the diary of Jake Sato: Dated: May 11th, 2019 I’ve always tried to rationally think through how we got here. What happened to lead us down this path? Why did life turn out like this? When I do, my mind always comes back to that summer’s...
16 Jan Carson’s Folly
Youth is forever entwined with adventure. The vast horizon speeds away from a young mind into infinity. A world to be discovered. Possibilities waiting to be made certainties. Out there, beyond. Not far from where we now sit, two teenagers propelled by that hunger for...
15 Jan Roadkill
He liked to kill animals. It was a game he’d play during the longer drives. Jones wasn’t a bad guy entirely. He wasn’t particularly rotten, at least not to the core. He’d never kill a dog, for example, that would of course be wrong. Dogs...
14 Jan Fey Hollow
I was but a boy when I first discovered the grove in the wood, or, perhaps, when it discovered me. I came across the path leading to it down from my grandparents’ house where I would often visit in the summer months, wild and free...
13 Jan The Legend of Ol’ Mother Cleaver
This is a true story. I know that’s cliché to say. In this day and age, claiming something incredible happened without video proof is a surefire way to make certain people won’t believe you. Everyone does it, though, especially in the realm of the scary...
13 Jan To Build a Fire
Day had broken cold and grey, exceedingly cold and grey, when the man turned aside from the main Yukon trail and climbed the high earth-bank, where a dim and little-traveled trail led eastward through the fat spruce timberland. It was a steep bank, and he...
12 Jan Axe Murder Hollow
There was once a farmer who lived outside the city of Erie, Pennsylvania. On a small hill overlooking his fields he built himself a little wooden house with thirteen steps leading up to it and a barn for his horse and tools. He was a...